Life of Pi: An Alternate Ending
by ipikachooseyou
Summary: I am Nikhil “Nick” Patel. And you can't convince me.
1. Chapter 87

**_From Chapter 86 of Life of Pi..._**

_"And what if..."  
_

**Chapter 87**

Those were the last words on the file.

He had finished it only a week before he had died.

After my father's funeral, I was given the password to his computer. Before I knew it, I had accessed the story of my father's life. Sure, I had heard it plenty of times, but now I had his own words down on paper.

"Nick?" I turned my head from the computer.

"Yeah?" Pamela stood in the doorway to my office. Her hair was a dark brown, bordering on black, her eyes a shocking blue. Some weird mix of genes had given her that odd combination. She smelled of the latest fragrance from on of those popular designers. Vera Wang or something like that.

"A few of us are going out to grab a bite to eat. Jared and I want to know if you want to join us." I shook my head.

"Thanks for the offer, but I can't tonight." It was the truth. Sure, I wasn't doing anything with anyone else but tonight was set aside for something important.

"Alright, see you on Monday." I waved absentmindedly and closed what I was working on. Taking my time, I gathered my things and headed out.

The office was quiet as I closed the lights and walked out into the night. I walked over to the garage and they promptly brought me my car.

"So tonight's the night, eh?" I nodded at Jean and climbed into my car. Not long after I started driving, I was startled by the sound of my cell phone ringing. The voice on the other end was all too familiar.

"Nikhil."

"Usha."

"Have you gone already?" I stopped at a light and noticed a flower stand. As the light changed, I turned and quickly double-parked as I got a few flowers.

"I'm on my way now, Usha. I just picked up some flowers." On the other end I could hear some things falling and a child screaming. Probably her children, Sushila and Hari.

"I'm glad you're going this year, Nick." Another crash. "I must go. The children are causing a ruckus. Goodbye, Nikhil."

"Goodbye, Usha." I ended the conversation as I paid for the bouquet of flowers I had chosen. After my father died, we had decided to try and make a point to visit his grave every year on his birthday. It's the most we could do for him.

The leukemia was sudden for us all. They found it too late for anything to be done. One by one the days dwindled down until Easter Sunday a few years ago. We all knew that it was the end for him as he lay in bed, almost unable to open his eyes. He knew it too. He even joked about it to us.

"Maybe I can do as Jesus did and rise from the dead." He had laughed, which had turned into a coughing fit.

"Piscine..." my mother Meena had began.

"Now, Meena, don't you think that God would appreciate some joy in Heaven? Wouldn't you rather see me laughing than crying right now?." She had only nodded as a few tears began to roll down her face. People knew my father as insightful, over-analytic, and sometimes insane. What people didn't always see was the humorous man who loved his children. Usha was particularly close to him, and it hit harder to her than it did to me when we passed on.

I pulled into the cemetery and walked along the rows, passing tombstones with rocks on top, some with flowers, and one or two freshly dug graves. Nietzsche once said that a casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith proves nothing. If one were to take a casual stroll through a cemetery, you'd see that life is really short and all we come to is dust in the ground.

I approached my father's grave, looking at things that were already left there by Usha and my mother. A prayer rug, a cross of flowers, a statue of Shiva in his dancing manifestation Nataraja, and I added my bouquet of flowers to the memorial.


	2. Chapter 88

**Chapter 88**

My father wasn't just the humorous, family loving man. And yet, he wasn't just a crazy loon who would immerse himself in all things Muslim, Hindu, and Christianity. He was my father. He saw me play baseball throughout my years in school, he was the one who introduced me to Jesus, Allah, the concept of Brahman, and science.

Piscine Molitor Patel was my father and mentor. He tried to teach me all that he knew. He succeeded. But what he had created wasn't anything he was ready for, and thankfully, he never got to fully see. He had created me, who I am today. He created the atheist son from a man who was devout to three religions. How it happened is almost inconceivable, but at the same time, all too real.


	3. Chapter 89

**Chapter 89**

It all began when I was young, perhaps six.

"Would you like to meet Jesus, Nikhil?"

"Jesus? Who's Jesus?" So naïve at that age. I had heard of that Jesus man he talked about. The children at school had said his name in passing once or twice. Some of them had said that they loved Him. I couldn't quite grasp that concept though. How could you love someone you've never met and is dead?

My father went on to tell me the story of Jesus. He told me about the miracles he performed. The parables he told. I remember asking him once, "Father, if Jesus could walk on water because he had faith, why couldn't you when you were on the ocean?" I was slightly older by the time I had asked that. He had given me a look that had clearly said that he had never thought of trying that

"Perhaps I am not as Christian as I think myself to be." Perhaps Father Martin had lied to him the day he had told him that he was already a Christian. The phone had rang just as he was going to continue talking and he got up to answer and I had walked away.


	4. Chapter 90

**Chapter 90**

I met Allah next.

I swear my father tried to make my religious experiences as similar to his. He had taken me to the Muslim part of town, just like he had wandered around that area of his town of Pondicherry so long ago. However, the man I met was in no hut, was not a baker, was not a mystic. He was the local mosque's mullah, their priest. I don't remember the conversations we had. I don't even remember what he looks like. Most of my experience with Islam is a blur. I never was much interested in it when I was younger.

Time doesn't change much as it passes.


	5. Chapter 91

**Chapter 91**

My father was born into a Hindu family, a vegetarian all his life until he killed that turtle on the lifeboat to survive. So it was only natural for him to introduce me to Hinduism first.

When one thinks about it in retrospect, it is a fairly good system for behavior management in young children. If one believes that what they do now will effect them in their next life, perhaps they won't be as compelled to perform wrong at all, knowing that that last cookie they steal from the cookie jar could decide if they are reborn as a female human or a house fly.

Even then, Hinduism still didn't affect me much.


	6. Chapter 92

**Chapter 92**

And then I met science.

That lovely invention of logic and reason.

The combination of fact and speculation which can always be proved or disproved by a series of repeated experiments.

It wasn't like religion. Sure, my father had a degree in zoology, but even that didn't stop him from believing until his very last breath.

What religion was to my father, science is to me.

A Biology course in High School set it off, where we actually got a chance to study Darwin's views on evolution. Finally, some order in a world of theorizing and speculating. I wanted so badly to approach my father with this information, these facts. But inside me, I knew he would never accept it, and would only follow the words of Jesus or Allah or any of the sacred Hindu texts.

I learned I didn't have to believe in God if I could believe in science.


	7. Chapter 93

**Chapter 93**

I eventually left religion for atheism. Atheism does involve faith to some extent. An atheist has the strong belief that there is nothing there. They have faith in other things. They have faith that their Chinese take out will arrive to their house on time. They have faith in others. They have faith in facts.

Religion is the faith in the unknown, the belief in something else. So you could say that I didn't completely leave religion since I have belief in something else.

Just like my father had faith in Richard Parker that they would both mind their own space. That he would not go AWOL and suddenly devour him.

So my father was an atheist to an extent. Even Usha is an atheist to a certain degree.

Face the facts, ladies and gentlemen.

We are all atheists at one time or another.


	8. Chapter 94

**Chapter 94**

"Flight 231 to LaGuardia airport is now boarding." I stood up with the throng of people all going to New York.

I had quit my job, sold my house, said goodbye to Usha and Mother for now, and had packed everything I had into boxes and had shipped them out to America. They were waiting for me inside the apartment I had rented somewhere in the borough of Queens. All I had with me was a carry on and a few suitcases which were being loaded.

The office was upset about my sudden departure. They considered me an important part of the team. Funny since it was usually only Pamela and Jared who talked to me most of the time. Funny how true colors only show when they feel it's "right".

My phone rang.

"Yes, Usha?"

"Nikhil, why must you leave?" I sighed. My casual and yet formal attire moving almost as one with the breath.

"Usha, it's only best for me."

"No, it's not. Canada is best for you. You see what a mess that country is right now. Father's family left India to escape to something better. All you're doing is escaping to something worse."

"Goodbye, Usha, I have to get going."

"Nick-" I hung up the phone and shut it off as the woman checked my ticket and I took my seat on the plane.

I wanted to start over and cease being known as the son of the man who survived out on sea for a few months. I didn't want to have to continue to live the dream that was cut short for my father. It was too much to bear...


	9. Chapter 95

**Chapter 95**

I was only in my apartment for a few weeks when the doorbell rang one day. I opened the door and in front of it were two men both in suits, minus the jacket. I was only in a pair of loose shorts and a shirt, my pajamas.

"Hello, I'm Harvey and this is Michael. Can we talk to you about Jesus and God?" I felt a sinister grin sweep cross my face.

I don't mean to be rude, sirs, but don't try to tell me that there is a God, an Allah, a Shiva, anything. I am Nikhil "Nick" Patel. And you can't convince me."


End file.
